


Five Times Jody & Donna Had Drinks After A Hunt

by red_b_rackham



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bamf Lady Hunters, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor, SPN Summergen 2019, Wayward Daughters, five times fic, gen - Freeform, if you're paying attention there's a wee bit of background Donna/Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_b_rackham/pseuds/red_b_rackham
Summary: Sometimes the thing to do after a hunt, is to chill out and have a drink. Five times Jody and Donna had drinks together after a hunt, and one time they didn't.





	Five Times Jody & Donna Had Drinks After A Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ber_g](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ber_g/gifts).

> Once again, I played in the SPN Summergen challenge! I still have so many glorious fics to read from this year's amazing writers, and here's my wee contribution, written for ber_g. :)

**1.  
**

  
At first, Jody wasn’t sure how to take Donna. Even after they ended up thrown into a couple hunts together, it was hard to reconcile Donna’s wide, dimpled grin and navy blue police uniform. She seemed way too chipper to be hauling criminals around, and coupled with the Minnesota twang, Donna was like _Fargo_ and Barbie smashed together.  
  
If Barbie ever had the job of an incredibly competent officer and burgeoning hunter, that is.  
  
Donna staggered back, hand shaking only a little on the machete. “Real good, then,” she mumbled, surveying the four dead vampires in pieces on the cabin floor.  
  
Jody bent double to catch her breath.  
  
Today wasn’t supposed to be a hunt. Today was just supposed to be taking a day off and going for a drive. Instead it had turned into stopping at a convenience store and noticing something very off about the cashier, which led to some googling about disappearances in the area. One thing led to another, until Jody had to call somebody for back-up and the boys weren’t answering—Donna was close by.  
  
Jody straightened, gulping in air. Thankfully there’d only been a few vamps at this nest. Vampires were fast and often tough to take down. Wielding a machete to decapitate a pissed off, vengeful monster was actually way harder than Sam and Dean often made it look.  
  
“You okay?” Jody asked.  
  
Donna wiped her sleeve across her forehead, smearing the dark vamp’s blood on her skin. “Yep, real good then.” She let out a whistle. “That was a doozy, wasn’t it?”  
  
Jody glanced down at her tattered coat, the gash on her arm (not too deep, but stinging like hell), the smashed furniture of the cabin around them, and the blood soaking into the floorboards.  
  
“You could say that.” Jody exhaled heavily.  
  
“Well, I could use a stiff one,” said Donna, leading the way out of the cabin.  
  
Jody chuckled. “You could use a _shower.”_  
  
“Not so clean yourself, there, Jods.” Donna turned on her heel as she neared the bulky, rusting Range Rover they’d driven in together. She twirled her finger up and down at Jody.  
  
Jody groaned and popped open the driver’s door, climbing in. “My house is closer and I have a lot of whiskey.”  
  
“Darn tootin’,” Donna mumbled, easing into the passenger's seat. She winced and hissed. “Better have a heckin’ good first aid kit, too. That second geezer banged me up real good.”  
  
Jody started the engine. “Donna, you’re gonna learn: when you’re a hunter, you always have a lot of whiskey and a lot bandages.”  
  
She revved the engine and peeled down the dirt road, leaving the cabin in the dust.  
  
  
  


**2.  
**

  
“Ain’t never seen a...what was that called?” Donna was good at hiding the shake in her voice, even when things got weird. The general noise in the bar almost drowned her out. She sipped her whiskey carefully and wrinkled her nose.  
  
“A Rugaru, I think,” Jody answered, wiping her palms on her pants. Her jacket was in the car, covered in ash and blood, but she barely noticed. She was good at getting blood out of her clothes by now—and she owned a lot of extra jackets. “Or at least...I think it used to be.”  
  
Jody frowned, remembering the smelly, smoking pile of monster guts on the ground. She’d certainly followed up on Claire’s lead that it was a Rugaru, but it seemed to have been some sort of extra nasty hybrid, mutant version with extra teeth and an extra _arm_. She shuddered.  
  
At least it’d gone down like a regular Rugaru. She planned to shoot off a text to the boys once she was home, let them know she’d found another irregular, weird-ass monster. It was hard to keep up with the crap Sam and Dean were always dealing with, but with the variety of trips to other universes and cracks between dimensions, she knew it wasn’t just her imagination that monsters were getting more frequent and more bizarre than ever.  
  
“Right,” said Donna quietly, setting her glass down. “A..._roo-groo. _Okey doke.”  
  
Jody smiled a little and took a big swig of her beer. Even after several years of being a hunter, there were still things that were hard to get used to, but she couldn’t help being impressed at the way Donna took it all in stride. She could wield shotguns, rocksalt, machetes, and more with the rest of them, and still manage a shiny smile once the shock of a gnarly hunt wore off.  
  
“Just ain’t never seen…” Donna couldn’t finish her sentence and opted for another sip of whiskey.  
  
“Oh no, _that_ was new,” Jody assured. “That was...disturbingly new.”  
  
“Should I feel lucky or worried?”  
  
Jody snorted. “Both.” She signalled the bartender for another round.  
  
  
  


**3.  
**

  
Donna shoved open her kitchen door and made straight for the liquor cabinet. She plopped a bottle of tequila down on the counter with enough force that Jody worried it would break. Her lips were drawn tight together.  
  
Jody brushed past her and retrieved an ice pack from the freezer before plopping down at the kitchen table. She eyed Donna’s fast and harsh movements around the kitchen and the way Donna was studiously avoiding Jody’s eye contact.  
  
And probably the gigantic rainbow bruising covering half of Jody’s face.  
  
“Don’t say it.” Jody warned, gingerly touching the pack to her cheek. “Don’t you dare say it.”  
  
“Wasn’t going to.” Donna set a glass of tequila and lime down in front of Jody. Donna leaned against the counter.  
  
“Well...don’t.”  
  
Silence reigned for almost two full minutes, with just the sound of the ticking clock on the wall. Jody downed the last of her drink and caught Donna’s eye, who had her hand over her mouth and her shoulders were shaking.  
  
“Don’t you start!” Jody barked, but laughter bubbled in her chest and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop it.  
  
“I’m sorry, Jods!” Donna burst out. “But you, tryin’ to waltz over there, all _Rambo_-like, and then your _face_—and then—”  
  
As soon as she dissolved into giggles, Jody couldn’t help it. They were laughing so hard they were crying, even though it made Jody’s face hurt all the more. It took her attention off her aching ankle, at least. _Damn Chupacabra. _She’d thought it was down and out, not ready to dish more blows. This is what she got for trying to get in a snappy one-liner in the middle of a hunt.  
  
When Jody managed to get her breath back, she gently held the ice pack against her cheek again. “Ow...shit,” she said, sucking in her breath.  
  
Donna grabbed Jody’s glass and refilled it, still chuckling.  
  
  


**4.  
**

  
Jody stopped in front of Donna’s fridge and took a few slow, deep breaths.  
  
_He’s okay,_ she reminded herself. _He’s okay. They’re okay._  
  
Still, it was hard to banish the image of Dean, broken and bloody on the floor of that warehouse. Sam was still swinging, giving the Lamia everything he had. Jody and Donna had arrived just in time. Donna scooped up the knife that had been thrown in the struggle, Jody let off a few shots high to distract the thing, and then Donna had sunk the silver into the monster’s leathery skin. It shrieked and flailed, but finally crumpled and fell still.  
  
Jody pressed her fingers to her eyes. _They’re okay. _Sam was resting in her bed—she’d had to threaten him with further bodily harm if he didn’t lie down while she and Donna tended to Dean. Dean was banged up to hell, but breathing, and that was the important part.  
  
She pulled a couple beers out and headed back to the cozy living room, but paused when she heard Donna’s talking quietly.  
  
“Don’t do that again,” Donna murmured. “Don’t ever do that to me, Dean. Don’t do that to Jody. You have to be okay, do you hear me? You _have_ to…”  
  
Jody peeked around the doorframe. Donna sat cross-legged on the floor besides the couch, one hand gently dabbing dried blood off of Dean’s swollen cheek. Her hand clasped Dean’s. Jody stepped back into the kitchen and coughed loudly before emerging into the living room. Donna’s hands were in her lap.  
  
“How’s he doing?” Jody asked. She tried not to look at the array of bloody rags and first aid supplies covering Donna’s wooden coffee table. Jody swallowed hard against the rush of protective emotion in her throat. _He’s alive, he’s alive. It’s okay._  
  
“Still out, and he’ll be hurtin’ like heck for a while, but he'll make it.” Donna got up off the floor and took one of the beers from Jody. “That Lamia tore him up.”  
  
Jody nodded. Dean’s arms were patched and stitched, his face blotchy with heavy bruising and scrapes. She didn’t doubt he had a couple broken ribs to go with the spectacular bruising on his body, too; at least none of the lacerations on his legs and torso had been overly deep.  
  
She had broken every speed limit to get to Donna’s medical supplies while Dean moaned in the backseat, cradled between Donna and Sam. Donna had frantically asked why they weren’t going to a hospital, but Sam and Jody had snapped “No hospitals” in unison.  
  
“Why the cuss not?” said Donna.  
  
Jody had caught Sam’s eye in the rearview mirror, and she knew they were both thinking about Bobby.  
  
She swallowed said, “You wanna try to explain to a nurse what exactly happened?”  
  
It was another thing about a hunter’s life Donna was going to have to learn the hard way. They had to learn field medicine on the fly until they were experts at stitches. They only went to the hospital when it was really, really, bad—Death’s door kinda bad. And that was the other reason why hospitals were a no-go, last resort kinda place: going in generally meant not coming back out.  
  
“No hospitals,” Jody had murmured.  
  
To pull her thoughts away from the white-knucked drive here, Jody pointed to the pile of trashed, bloody clothes on the floor beside Donna.  
  
“Place your bets now: flattered or weirded out that we had to change his clothes?”  
  
Donna raised her eyebrows. “Think it depends on how much painkillers he’s on when he realizes he’s wearin’ stuff from the office’s Lost and Found.”  
  
Jody smirked and took another swig of her beer. “I don’t wanna know where that stuff has been.”  
  
Donna shuddered. “You really don’t.”  
  
  


**5.  
**

  
The pub was pretty quiet tonight, and Jody was thankful, since she could feel a headache brewing at the base of her skull. Another hunt complete, another coat ruined, but another town was safe, too.  
  
For a minute, at least.  
  
Donna chatted idly about the finer details of the case, and Jody let it wash over her, offering up a few non-committal “mm-hmms” once in a while. After this many hunts together, it was part of the routine. Donna processed out loud, Jody processed internally. And they drank.  
  
After a long enough pause, however, Jody zoned back in and glanced at her friend.  
  
Donna watched her carefully. “We did what we could, Jods.”  
  
Jody grunted. They’d saved the girl, lost the guy. Yeah, it was part of the job and they both knew it—had both dealt with it plenty with their respective law enforcement jobs, long before either of them got dragged into the world of hunting monsters.  
  
“Sometimes we can’t save ‘em all,” Donna added softly.  
  
“Doesn’t make it easier,” said Jody. Her whiskey tasted bitter tonight.  
  
“No, it don’t.”  
  
One life was better than none—Jody knew that. One more monster off the board was a good deal. And one more drink sounded great, even if it wasn’t very tasty.  
  
Donna’s cellphone jangled with some energetic pop song, and she smiled at the screen before answering. “Howdy!”  
  
Jody exhaled heavily. Really, if losing people ever _did_ get easier, then she knew it’d be time to quit. Loss of innocent life should never be easy. She rubbed her palm over her face.  
  
“Sure, we’re close,” said Donna, glancing at Jody. “Oh yeah, I got a flamethrower in the trunk. Will that do ya?” She paused and nodded. “Right-o… See you boys soon, then.”  
  
She pocketed her phone and finished off the dregs of her strawberry daiquiri.  
  
“You up for another, Mills?”  
  
Jody tapped her finger on the side of her glass. “How far?”  
  
Donna shrugged. “Six hours.”  
  
Jody tossed back her crappy whiskey and climbed out of the booth. “Well, then—sounds like we’ve got work to do.”  
  
“Just another day,” said Donna.  
  
  


_ **+1 And One Time They Didn’t** _

  
Jody forced the door open. She nearly tripped in her haste to kick off her boots, and she let her keys and coat fall to the floor. She’d pick them up later.  
  
It had been a long-ass week. She’d tracked down a nasty poltergeist, skipped sleeping in order to help Claire deal with a seriously vengeful spirit, driven through the night to aid a newbie hunter, got the tar kicked out of her by a freakin’ wraith, saved said _idiot_ newbie hunter from certain death, and been nearly driven off the road trying to come home.  
  
She was done—no, she was so beyond done, she didn’t even know what done was anymore.  
  
Donna shut the door behind them and followed suit, flinging boots and weapons down wherever they landed.  
  
“Claire’s away,” Jody slurred over her shoulder.  
  
“Works for me,” came Donna’s hazy reply.  
  
Jody stumbled into her bedroom and fell onto the bed. She could care less if she was getting ectoplasm on her sheets. Her washer had seen worse, at this point.  
  
She didn’t move for twelve hours and it was _blissful._

**-end-**


End file.
